Flynt
“So we finally killed Imala, finished what we came down here to do.” Nazili raises an eyebrow. “How are you feeling, Flynt?" Heh. Like we've done 50% of a job. Which is problematical considering we've done maybe about 15." He snorts, wiping blood away from his face. "Honestly? I was never worried about killing Imala. Damien, either. We're strong. I have faith in you lot... I mean, err, us. The hard part is what comes after. Rebuilding. Restructuring. And... Hell, finding out whether it's gonna be enough when the smoke clears.... IF the smoke clears." He bites down hard on his toothpick, snapping it in half on accident. "Fuck. What I'm feeling is worried about the ones we left up top. Eager to get up there. And, uh... Guilty. Damn it, Nazili, you got me talking about my feelings again." Nazili smiles. That’s what I’m here for. To slice things in half and to make you lot talk about your feelings.” She trails off for a second. “I would like to remind you that even though a locale may seem like a home, what really makes a home is the people you care about, and that care about you in return. No matter what happens to Sandholm, as long as you have the Impure by your side, you can make anywhere a home. Neither of us have any idea what kind of world lies waiting for us on the surface, but I have full trust that you will make the right decisions for you and the livelihood of your family.” "Well. I've got two families now. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that. I've been living just for me and mine for so long, I never realized how far into the sand my head's been buried. I can see the light at the end of this very long, exceptionally shitty tunnel for the first time in my life, and all I see is a question: What do I do with the rest of my life? I can stay in Sandholm forever, gods know this place will never be fully free of things to hit. But that's not me anymore. I see a world burning, and I want to do something about it. I can't ignore that. But the thought of leaving again... They count on me. Maybe they shouldn't. Maybe that's not my decision. I don't fuckin' know. Maybe that's what this hero shite really is." He laughs, genuinely, cathartically. "How's that for sharing?" “You know, you may not want people to think you’re some kind of leader, but you certainly have the heart of one.” Nazili chuckles. “I’m over three hundred years old and I still haven’t figured out exactly what I want to do with my life and where I’m going, either. But isn’t that what life’s all about? Nazili smiles at him. "Keep your chin up and that fire burning in your heart, Flynt. Live each day as it comes because that’s all we can do.” "I'll drink to that. Or I would, if they had drinks down here." He mimes raising a glass, then looks over at Bentley brooding out of earshot, knowing Nazili cannot see where his eyes have wandered. His smile falters for only a moment before he looks back at Nazili. "Thank you. For letting me be a part of this. No matter how things shake out, I'm in this for the long haul. Heh. Isn't that something?"